You’re in plenty of
time, so you purchase a coffee and a paper, and settle yourself in a seat
across the concourse from the barrier between you and the platforms. From here, you can keep half an eye on
comings and goings: those arriving off trains, stepping through the gates,
pausing to find their bearings before plunging on towards their final
destination. Some are met, by those who
came here for the same reason you did: you smile to note this but, ultimately,
you care as little about their meeting as they have any awareness of
yours. You unfold the paper, turn to the
sports pages, wonder at the rise and fall of fortunes, glance at your watch, search
your pockets for a pen and tackle the crossword or Sudoku.
Imagine. Savour the distraction of waiting...
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